


Under Your Protection

by cmorgana



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bodyguard, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Consensual Kink, Daddy Kink, Dom Brock Rumlow, Enthusiastic Consent, FBI Agent Brock Rumlow, If Bucky is under protection is because he's in danger but nothing appears, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes, Spanking, Top Brock Rumlow, Under protection Bucky Barnes, bodyguard Brock Rumlow, but just to explain why Bucky is under protection, good guy Brock Rumlow, it's just a PWP, maybe a little plot but just a hint, mention of forced prostitution, mention of past sexual abuse I guess since he was a prostitute, mention of prostitution, sexual begging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 02:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21190121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmorgana/pseuds/cmorgana
Summary: Stuck in a motel with an FBI team, Bucky is bored enough that he almost regrets not letting Pierce or one of his clients kill him. The only good thing? The super hot team leader, Brock Rumlow. Good thing Bucky turns into a brat when boredORex sex worker Bucky and agent Rumlow have a lot of kinky sex





	Under Your Protection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CapriciousKitten (SunflowerPineapple)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerPineapple/gifts).

> This is a birthday gift for my own Brock (with half a Jack trown in it), I love you and I'm so glad I met you <3
> 
> All the possible triggers should be in the tags, but if you are not sure about something feel free to ask me!

"I'm bored."

The voice was so low it almost blended with the sound of the rain, hitting incessantly against the window. More water, it seemed like the sun had decided to stop shining, those last days like the place wasn't gloomy enough even without the sky being dark even during daytime. 

A clap of thunder broke the silence that followed, Brock ignored the comment and just watched the drops slid along the glass, but Bucky knew he was focused on whatever car could approach the isolated motel. That too felt like something immutable. The man looking out, serious and silent, shoulders always tense. 

Leaving the bed, Bucky approached the agent, leaning against the wall near him, almost engulfed by the old and dusty curtain. He was wearing grey sweatpants and the same t-shirt from the day before. He had stopped caring about clothes the sixth days spent caged in that room. 

"Isn't this driving you crazy?" Bucky inquired, and Brock shrugged.

"I'm working. It's a job like any other, hopefully, this one won't involve bullets and blood."

"Yeah," Bucky grimaced, "given that bullets would be directed at me, I hope that too. But at least it would make things less boring. Even the hospital would be better than that."

Brock ignored the dark joke like he seemed to ignore most things that were said, to him or otherwise, but this time he turned to finally look at Bucky.

"Hopefully they'll get Pierce soon, possibly with a bullet" Brock almost joked back, "thanks to your tip. It took balls to go against your boss like that, given how far high in the mob chain he is" there was something in his voice that Bucky couldn't catch, even being very good at reading people Brock was a mystery. Sometimes Bucky wondered if he was a mystery to his colleagues too, given the confused glances they often gave him. It felt like only Rollins was able to get Brock with just a glimpse. It probably came with a few decades of being partners, Bucky guessed, nothing he could hope to achieve in a few weeks. 

Bucky almost blushed, though, when his brain caught up with Rumlow's words. He turned. He hadn't needed real bravery to rat Pierce off, not when the man had decided he was a disposable good. Bucky had always known the risks of working for him and even more the risks of becoming his most valuable boy. Not that he ever had a choice anyway. But apparently, he had become so popular to be worth an extraordinary sum to be rented for the worst things, no matter the outcome. To tip off the police, at least, had been a calculated risk and a bullet had felt like a better way to go than for the pleasure of some sick sadist. 

"No wifi, no phone, no tv… we've been stuck in here for nine days, seriously, how can't it drive you crazy?" He asked again, watching at the agent move around the room for a moment before he went and sat on the armchair.

"Told you, it's work. You just have to stay there and wait, guess it can be boring, I, instead, have to keep an eye on anyone coming in, I've to coordinate my team and to be ready for a fight at any moment. You get irritated, I am busy. I'm not used to my missions going wrong, so I can't let you get killed," Brock explained once more, showing more patience than Bucky would have expected at first sight. 

Brock smiled slightly and Bucky had to swallow, cheeks once more red. Sure this time was for being reminded that Rumlow was working and risking while he just laid in bed reading. 

Still, Bucky had to admit his reaction was for the other main reason: the man was gorgeous and not just because they've been stuck there for days. No, he was rough looking but nice, muscles never really hidden by the dress shirts he always wore, and Bucky had spent more than a few minutes under the shower thinking about the marks the short beard could leave on his inner thighs. Brock wasn't the only agent spending hours in his room, making sure no one was going to kill him, but he was the one Bucky would want there for other reasons too. Him being patient and protective also was one of the things that made Bucky’s throat tight in a good way. 

"You could be more entertaining, though. Collins plays cards with me, at least," Bucky pushed, almost amused.

Brock grunted.

"I'm an agent assigned to your protection, not a nanny. And I'm actually busy keeping you alive. Read a book," he dismissed, taking a sip of his coffee.

"You never looked like a nanny to me," Bucky decided to try, taking a step forward. If the man was impossible to read, the only way was to just make a move and see. Worst case scenario Brock was going to leave the in-room protection to one of the others and Bucky would end nursing a burning humiliation in front of a whole FBI team. He definitely had worse than some mortification from someone like Brock and his men. Possibly. Maybe. Hopefully, it wasn’t going to end in a disaster.

"Good to know," Brock replied totally unamused. He took the com, back to ignore Bucky, "Rollins, take over the perimeter watch," he ordered, ignoring the affirmative reply he got from his partner. He apparently liked to ignore what others had to say. 

Bucky stopped in his track for a moment. That was a good chance as any other, at least Rumlow wasn't distracted by having to watch the desert street. At least he could have turned all that into a stupid joke in case Brock was going to reject him and save some pride. 

Who was he trying to fool, Bucky no longer had pride, he has left it outside of that motel room by having to be babysat 24/7, and it had got the mortal hit when he had started to fell for one of his bodyguards. More humiliating than being a whore. 

"I'm bored, I've already read more than I read in all my life. And I know that being caged here is driving you crazy too,” he whines petulantly.

"Seriously, stop this, kid, before I get a headache. I knew you were to protect from the mafia, I didn’t know you were going to be so high maintenance. Can’t you be scared and hiding like everyone else in your situation?" Brock used his most stern tone, but Bucky didn't even flinch.

He knew when someone wasn't really a threat, that he could read even on Brock. Actually, it made him a little hard, luckily not enough to show under the loose pants. Yep, no pride, lucky him. 

"Or what?" He took another few steps, getting closer to Brock, pouting and getting his better brat face on.

"Or I swear I'll spank you like the annoying kid you are," Brock growled and both froze for a moment. 

Bucky fought not to gulp visibly, or to show his satisfied face, but the sweat pants were now doing little to hide the effect of a simple, casual, sentence. 

So Brock was somehow interested and, apparently, also internally freaking out for what he just said. That was better than Christmas and his birthday put together because Bucky was amazing at taking opportunities and even better at getting people out of their clothes. 

Taking the last few steps, Bucky stopped in front of him, fighting hard to still give his most innocent stare. 

"You don't like brats, daddy?" He asked, playing all his cards, and tension was suddenly palpable in the room, visible in the stillness that Brock forced into himself, shoulders rigid and a frown on his face. 

Bucky worried for a moment that he had said the wrong thing, touched a wrong kink, but his panic got cut short by Brock grabbing his wrist, tight. 

"Why are you doing this?" He asked in a low growl. Fingers almost leaving marks on the fair skin, the feeling running straight between Bucky’s legs, even if the situation was still critical.

Bucky thought about what to answer. Gratitude, boredom… no, it wasn't that. 

"Because you make me fucking hard, daddy," he confessed, going for the truth and, before he could even think about the words that left his mouth, Brock's free hand was pressing against his groin through the sweatpants. 

Bucky whined, a high pitched and embarrassing sound that he didn’t care about, his head suddenly filled with white static.

"Right answer, good boy," Rumlow praised with a small smile, shoulders finally relaxed, his brown eyes made darker by the dilated pupils. 

He had to feel the already more than half hard cock, but Bucky was past caring. He knew he was going to freak out about a lot of things for a lot of reasons, but later, when his blood was going to be done rushing wherever Brock's hands were.

Bucky gulped, mouth suddenly dry at that single sentence. In a haze he let the hand on his wrist guide him down, to straddle Brock's legs. The man grabbed him by the neck, bending him to start a heated kiss. 

He kissed like he did everything else. Aggressive and dirty, but somehow careful, minding every moan and movement he got from Bucky, kissing and licking, biting on his bottom lip when Bucky involuntarily moved his hips to ride his leg.

The kiss ended like it had started, Brock pulling Bucky away by the neck.

"So, can you be a good boy and stop moaning about everything?"

"I fear I can't, daddy. I'm so bored and you keep ignoring me!" Bucky lamented, barely hiding the smirk on his lips. 

He couldn't believe it was happening, the hot FBI agent was breaking rules and having sex with him and, even better, he liked his daddy kink. Maybe to be hunted, his life in danger, and being stuck in a dirty motel wasn't so bad, after all. Oh no, it was one of the best things that had happened to him, he was ready to spend the rest of it living in hiding and on Brock’s lap.

"You get my attention when you deserve it, boy, not when you want it. Up, undress," short commands in a rough voice, the tone Bucky had heard him use with his team, that made him hotter than it probably should have. 

Bucky got up and in a second got rid of his shirt and pants, letting both fall and lay on the floor, forgotten, like the boxers he hadn't bothered to wear that morning. His cock stood hard between his legs, pointing shamelessly at Rumlow, who still kept the unimpressed face on. 

But his eyes… Bucky's cock twitched when their eyes met. The man's were darker, something primal and dangerous shining in them. Hunger, power. Something that made Bucky feel like he should be scared because he knew he could have lost himself following that stare, he knew there was close to little he would have stopped the man from doing to him. Yet, he wasn't scared, he didn't care, he was ready to jump into that darkness.

"So I really make you hard. Good. Now, you've been annoying and you don't deserve it, but I think it's time for that spanking," Bucky tried to gulp, but his mouth was too dry.

"I don't deserve it because I'm too much of a good boy?" He teased getting a snort as a reply.

"Be careful, there's so much cheekiness I'll take before this turns into a game you won't like. At all. But you're lucky, for now you'll only get the spanking you are so badly craving," he reached a hand, offering it to Bucky who quickly took it. 

It was warm and softer than he had imagined, just a few calluses left behind by maybe the gun. Long fingers, larger at the knuckles. Bucky couldn't wait to feel them inside him. 

"...are you listening to me?" Brock stern tone brought him back into the present.

"Sorry, daddy. Didn't mean to get distracted," he said in a small voice and Rumlow sighed like he was already resigned to little to no cooperation.

"I asked you for your safeword," he repeated, calmly.

"Hydra," Brock nodded.

"Hydra. Good," he didn't ask questions about it, which made Bucky fell a little more for him, "still I want you to use colors if you need me to change things. Safeword will stop the game immediately, red will stop whatever I'll be doing. Is that clear?" Bucky nodded, but got a slap on his thigh, "I asked you a question," Brock underlined, eyebrows raised in expectation. 

"Clear, daddy," Bucky corrected himself, blushing a little at the amateur mistake, "safeword to stop the scene, red to stop the thing. Yellow if I need a breather." 

Brock nodded, smiling this time, and reached to caress Bucky's cheek tenderly. 

"Such a brilliant boy," he praised and Bucky couldn't help but close his eyes and press his face into the touch, "a pity you like to play brat, you know I don't like to punish you," Bucky opened his eyes and Brock's smile was telling the opposite. 

With a grin, he pulled on the wrist in his hand until Bucky almost lost his balance and Brock took the opportunity to pull him down on his lap. 

Bucky moaned at the unexpected movement, finding himself facing the floor suddenly and earlier than he had thought. He adjusted, trying to move away from the knee against his stomach and just when he heard a snorted laugh he realized he was basically wriggling his ass in front of Brock. On his lap. Bucky blushed, so hard it was more than he could blame the position for. 

"Comfortable?" Rumlow teased, amused, but he cut any reply by delivering a sharp smack on Bucky's right cheek. He shrieked, out of surprise more than pain, and Rumlow laughed. 

Bucky was starting to get why a few of the other agents considered him a bastard. 

"What, you wanted cuddles and warm-ups?" He teased again, and again he didn't leave Bucky any time to answer. This time, though, he started the spanking in earnest, hard and unforgiving, targeting all the more delicate spot with the same precision he probably used to kill bad guys. 

Bucky whimpered, his hips moving out of instinct to avoid the slaps, his hard cock trapped between Brock’s legs, but soon the strong hand on his back started to keep him still until Bucky started to instead arch into every new slap, moaning, spreading his legs more and chasing the sweet pain. 

It felt good. Amazing, actually. His word started and ended with the warm hand on the small of his back and the delicious burning of his ass. He could feel the strong thighs under him, made rough by the denim, the same denim that kept chafing his cock, hard and leaking, twitching against it at every slap. He cared about nothing. Not being stuck there, not about his past, not about Pierce. Just the sweet, rhythmical pain existed. 

"So good for me, you like that?" Brock's voice broke in the haze of his brain for a moment, like a light in the fog, his personal light, the one he'd have followed anywhere. 

"Yes, daddy. It hurts," Bucky said, in sheer contrast with his legs spreading in an invitation to hit more sensitive parts, "it burns, daddy," he added, not even sure of what words were leaving his mouth. 

Brock stopped, though, caressing the warm skin while he reached for Bucky's head with the other. He started to card his hair gently, scratching his scalp. 

"Such a good boy. Look at you, how easily you went. I didn't see how much you needed this, poor baby," he cooed, nails running over the red and marked skin of Bucky's ass. He was going to have a few bruises, but neither of them could care less. 

Bucky just laid there, relaxed and pliant, letting the man move him however he wanted, moaning at every spark of delicate pain, at every caress, hungry for whatever Brock was going to give him. 

He lost count of the time, of everything but the touches and the murmured praises. He let Rumlow manhandle him, carefully pulling him up, and as soon as he was straddling the agent's lap again, he got both arms around his neck and hid his face against it. Brock smelled so good. It was a mix of soap, cigarettes and something sharper, probably gunpowder, he had seen the man make his own bullets. It was incredibly him, a scent that Bucky could have recognized anywhere. 

"Come on, let's go somewhere more comfortable so I can take good care of you," Brock murmured into his ear, getting up and holding him at the same time, like he weighed nothing, and Bucky could only moan once more at that show of power, legs tight around Brock's waist while the strong hands supported his bruised ass. He was grateful the trip to the bed wasn’t more than a few steps, his cock dripping angrily against Brock’s shirt. 

Bucky laughed when Rumlow let him fall on the bed, the mattress bouncing him a little. It was easy and carefree laughter, that left his shoulders relaxed, something he had so often missed. He reached a hand toward Brock, needy, but the man shook his head no. Instead, he started to take off his clothes, unbuttoning his ruined shirt slowly, not a show, just no rush, and Bucky tried to gulp around a suddenly dry throat. 

Brock was a work of art like he had imagined. Muscles hard and defined like Bucky had only seen in movies, abs he could count and that ended where the black stripe of hair started, leading down and disappearing into the low waisted jeans.

“Please, daddy,” Bucky whined, not even sure what he was asking for, but Brock only smiled, shaking his head, and let the shirt fall on the floor, then going for his jeans. They fall easily, showing the hard cock nested between neatly trimmed hair, and Bucky whines again, this time some sort of lament from a dying animal, definitely not sexy, but he couldn’t have cared less.

“Please, please, let me suck you, daddy. Please,” he begged, hand pushed toward him in desperation. He needed that, he was going to die if he couldn’t touch that cook immediately. 

“Not yet, baby boy,” Brock said tenderly, shaking his head and smiling, “first daddy wants to play with you a little,” he moved to sit on the bed and then scooted back toward the headboard, where he took his time to set the pillows to his liking and just then he leans back, comfortable, legs spread. 

Bucky stayed still, waiting for an order, forcing himself to be good at least that first time, because he was sure there would gonna be more and he was sure he wouldn’t be so good. He looked at Brock almost hypnotized by every movement, by the muscles moving under the dark skin and the cock that seemed to call him like a siren.

“Come here, on all fours, I want your ass,” Brock ordered once he was settled, and Bucky crawled through the little space that separated them. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of the position, so Brock grabbed his hips, pulling them toward his face. After a second of confusion Bucky went down on his elbows, face just near Brock’s knees and ass in front of Brock. 

“Is that okay, daddy?” he asked, uncertain, and as a reply Brock finally touched his arse, hands kneading the firm cheeks. Bucky’s cock pulsed between his legs, hard and forgotten, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the sensual pain.

“Perfect. I can be relaxed and comfortable and have your ass just here to play with,” the man confirmed with satisfaction, fingers digging into the red marks and eliciting moan after moan.

It was good, incredibly good. His well spanked ass burned and ached under the assault, but every time it went close to the wrong side of painful, Brock would just gently caress the skin, kiss it, or just lick it with his warm tongue. It was glorious and incredibly frustrating after the first few minutes. His hole was teased mercilessly by the forced spread of his cheeks, the cold air and Brock’s breath, and yet it was left untouched and spasming around nothing. 

Bucky took a little more of the sweet torture, back arching in pleasure at every bite that left behind a new bruise, moaning at the random slaps he got if he moved too much, but his untouched cock soon started to reclaim for attention, painfully hard and by then slowly dripping. 

“Please, I need more,” Bucky groaned in desperation, which earned him a hard spank on his thigh, but didn’t make him desist, “daddy, I can’t, it’s too much, I need you to…” he stopped at the thumb that was suddenly pushed against his hole.

“What do you need so much you interrupt me, boy?” Brock feigned innocence, the finger slowly massaging the hole in little circles, pressing but not pushing in.

With a moan, Bucky felt his arms finally give in and he collapsed down, face on the almost cold sheet. 

“Please daddy, I need to be filled, I feel so empty and my cock hurts, I need you to open me and fuck my ass!”

“My little, hungry slut,” Brock praised, gently stroking his leg, “you’ve been so good not begging until now,” without another word he bent and licked a long stripe along Bucky’s crack.

Just for a second, the warm tongue touched his hole, but it was sudden and too much after long minutes of almost nothing, and Bucky could only scream a moan, nails clawing at the covers. 

With a satisfied grin plastered on his face, Brock repeated the lick, this time gaining some sort of desperate meowling and a hand gripping his leg. 

“I can’t, I’ll do whatever you want, but please do something, daddy,” Bucky almost cried in frustration, and, incredibly enough, Brock gave up. He gripped his hips and started licking him in earnest, tongue stroking the rim and then pushing in to stretch him, over and over, patiently letting the muscles relax around it just to push a little deeper and then out again. 

Bucky couldn’t moan or breath, it was too much, his hole too sensitive at the gentle touch, the first good one in months. It felt good, amazing, but also intimate and careful and it had nothing to do with an orgasm, that didn’t even feel so important anymore, Bucky just wanted to bask in that sensation forever, to stop time and enjoy the tender kisses. Well, not really, he desperately needed something, anything, to touch his cock or he was sure it was one second from falling off.

“You okay there, little one?” Brock asked whispering against his skin, raising goosebumps, and Bucky looked over his shoulder slowly, with a nod and a smile. 

“Just not used to that,” he confessed, head down again, cheeks suddenly flushed with a different kind of pink but too relaxed to care about taking the effort to hide or of looking up at Brock, “It’s just a lot.”

“Want me to fuck you, baby?” Brock tone was serious, not concerned, obviously, nothing in Bucky’s body was sending an alarm, but soft, as if he knew some things needed more care in being handled than in any usual first fuck. 

It still took Bucky a moment to think, or at least to clear his head enough to try, the tip of Brock’s finger against his entrance not helping him to focus. It was Brock’s care that made it more than his skilled tongue, that made him hot and made his cock twitch. 

“Yes, please,” he accepted after a few seconds, reaching Brock’s same conclusion, and just like that he relaxed back into the bed, trusting and safe.

He had no idea where Brock got the lube from, or at any rate, he’d rather not think he got it from his nightstand, hoping his bodyguards hadn’t had to listen to him jerking off for days, but the amused chuckle and victory sigh he heard let Bucky believe the walls were that thin. He didn’t care. Not at the moment, at least. He could find time to blush later. Maybe send the others a basket of fruit.

The creepy thoughts were soon totally wiped away by the finger that slowly but relentlessly entered him. It was rough but gentle, and Bucky could clearly feel the larger knuckle force its way in and lodging itself just inside his hole. 

Bucky moaned his pleasure, nail fingers sinking into the skin of Brock’s leg.

“Yes, yes, yes. Please, daddy. More, faster, I already took so much teasing! please!” he was desperate, even more so now that he was starting to have what he craved. 

Behind him Brock said something, but at the same time, he started to move the single digit, erasing everything else for Bucky. At every movement the man dragged against his prostate in a light massage and Bucky lost all cognition of time and space, just able to trash and moan in a high pitched voice. 

Brock must have been a lot more generous than he looked, though, because it took just a few movements before, with Bucky’s enthusiastic nodding, the finger turned into two and at a faster pace. Or maybe he was just as frustrated as Bucky, his hard cock pressing against the boy’s leg and probably screaming for attention too.

“You tell me when you’re ready, boy,” Brock said serious, not even pushing the third finger in and the last of Bucky’s breath got lost in a chuckle. 

“I don’t need fingering to be ready, daddy. I’m letting you just because it feels good,” he confessed and could hear Brock snort a laughter under his breath, even if he slaps his cock in retaliation. Bucky saw black for a second, the intense sensation bringing him even closer, but by miracle kept some more control. 

“Naughty boy, you’re lucky you’re so hot and sweet. Come on, get up and come here to kiss daddy,” Bucky obeyed hungrily, getting up so fast he felt light headed for a moment, but not caring at all while he moved to turn with something resembling grace and failing miserably. 

“Hey,” he whispered softly when he finally was straddling Brock, mouths so close that they touched while talking. 

The man took a second to reply, for once the one unable to breath when their cock pressed together.

“Hey to you. I’m so proud of you, you’re so patient and so hot. You were basically vibrating under my hands but asked for nothing for so long,” Brock praised while he ran a hand up and down Bucky’s back. 

It was Bucky who took the initiative and moved forward, pressing their mouth together and opening in invitation. It didn’t take long for Brock to accept it. The hand ran up to grab’s Bucky’s neck while he kisses him, deeply and long, licking his mouth and playing around his tongue, taking and drinking every moan. Both men moved their hips, incoherently searching for friction and pleasure, drunk with need, until Brock moved back, breaking the kiss and leaving Bucky with closed eyes and open mouth, high on pleasure. 

While the younger man was still trying to fill his lungs, Brock flipped them on the bed and kneeled between his legs, smiling at how soft and pliable Bucky was, so light he could manhandle him like a doll. His doll. 

“Can I, baby boy?” Brock asked, more to pull Bucky back into reality and what was happening than for another permission he already enthusiastically got, and Bucky nodded, unable to talk for another moment. 

“Please daddy,” he murmured when he remembered how to form words after the deepest, most passionate, kiss he had ever got. He got no answer, Brock got up though, cold air suddenly hitting Bucky’s damp skin, making him shudder and for a moment a light touch lingered on his chest before disappearing. 

Bucky’s protests, when Brock left the bed for a moment, went ignored, but the pout disappeared the moment Brock showed him a condom. 

“My boy is starting to lose his patience?” the man teased while wearing the rubber and starting to spread too much lube on himself. 

“You’d be too, daddy, if you were waiting to be fucked by someone as hot as you,” that got a chuckle from Brock who used the distraction to raise Bucky’s legs, almost folding him in half, finally pressing his cock against the long teased hole.

Both men groaned in relief and Bucky grabbed Brock’s shoulders, gripping them tightly while the man slowly slipped inside him. 

Too slow. Too little. He needed more, he needed to be fucked into the mattress, to be owned. 

Bucky’s legs moved to cross around Brock’s waist, one foot pressed on the man’s ass to push him forward. Faster. But Brock didn’t like it. He kept going until he bottomed out, then he stopped, grabbing Bucky’s face in one strong hand. 

“I make the rules here, boy, and you obey them. I’ll give you what I want and at the pace I want, is that clear?” the hard tone was impossible to ignore, it sent a spark of pleasure straight to his cock but Bucky only nodded into the grip, “good, it would be a pity to finish and leave you unsatisfied because you didn’t deserve an orgasm, wouldn’t it?” 

Immediately Bucky’s eyes widened. He was sure it was just an empty threat, but one he definitely couldn’t risk. 

“I’m sorry daddy! So sorry!” he cried out, in a desperate begging voice. He kept the legs around Brock’s waist, but relaxed them, no longer gripping or pushing the man’s hips. 

Brock nodded in return, finally pulling almost completely out to push in again, a little faster at every push. 

It took little for the two men to get close, both already riled up by the foreplay. The strokes became shorter and harder and the moment Brock finally closed his fist around Bucky’s forgotten cock, the young man almost screamed, head thrown backwards in pleasure and leaving Brock access to the exposed column of his throat. Brock attacked it, licking and sucking, teasing with his teeth where it vibrates at Bucky’s every moan. He followed every little drop of sweat, licking it up, kissing where it disappeared under his mouth, while he moved his hand faster on Bucky, turning his wrist at every upstroke and using his thumb to tease the wetness away from the tip. 

“Please daddy, so close,” Bucky begged after a few minutes of the sweet torture, with tears caught between the closed eyelashes. 

“Yes baby, yes. Come for me,” Brock gave permission, hand focusing just under the head, on the bundle of nerves that got Bucky body even tenser and shaking. 

Two more strokes, almost slow, dragging over Bucky’s prostate and he arched his back, body taught while he came shouting Brock’s name, tears sliding toward his temples, breath so fast and short his chest hurt.

It was more than enough to drive Brock’s over too. He bit down on Bucky’s shoulder, silencing his loud moan while he came pushed deep into the still spasming body.

When they manage to move they moved in a tired haze, both falling flat on their back, hands touching while they tried to regain some breath. They played with each other’s fingers, all the movement their exhausted bodies would allow, but both needing to touch the other.

“Wow,” Bucky broke the silence first, unable to say more, his throat burning and his body deliciously aching. 

“Yeah,” Brock gave up, amused and too tired to speak. 

They fall into silence again, fingers lazily touching while they enjoy the nice feeling. 

“Thank you,” Bucky finally said, once more the first to talk, with some newfound control over his body.

Brock turned to him with a frown. It wasn’t the tone of someone thanking for a great fuck.

“I mean...you are the first to… usually, the others touch me either like I’m about to break or like I don’t need any regard, at least the lovers who find out I’m a whore. You… you just touched me like you wanted to fuck me, the guy in front of you, no past attached”

“Did you have sex with me for some reason other than having sex?” Brock interrupted and Bucky immediately shook his head, confused, “You called me daddy because it’s your own kink, right?” this time a nod, “then I don’t see why I should care for what you were. You told me you wanted to sleep with me, you teased me because you’re a brat, and I’ve accepted. Nothing else. I trusted you to stop me if you needed it, I didn’t need to touch you like you were going to break,” Brock shrugged and Bucky felt like his heart was beating again for the first time in forever, spreading warmth in his chest. 

That man, the one stuck in a motel in the middle of nowhere, risking his life for him, was also the first to completely not care for the fact that he had spent his adult life selling his body, even if not by his own choice. 

That man was the first one to really trust his choices and to respect his right to decide what he wanted or not. 

“I hope we’ll be stuck here a lot longer,” Bucky giggled, turned on his side to rest his face on Brock’s chest while the man played with his short hair. 

“Yeah. No thanks. I promise you my bed is a lot softer. And I’m almost sure my team is already overhearing you scream in pleasure. Thin walls, remember?” 

Bucky blushed hard, hiding his face against Brock, but laughed. He definitely needed to find out exactly how comfortable his bed was.


End file.
